


Burn

by sammys_lover



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Adventure, Arson, Assassins & Hitmen, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Chaos, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family Fluff, Fire, Kidnapping, Rivalry, Romance, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Thanksgiving, Violence, Work In Progress, a lot of swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-01-22 14:40:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21303749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammys_lover/pseuds/sammys_lover
Summary: You're a professional arsonist.You're hired by all sorts of people for many different reasons.You take down companies that are destroying the environment. You torch cars. Properties. Send messages with flame.You burn houses down, no matter who's inside.What happens when your nephew, Dib Membrane, hires you to burn down the home of someone he despises?Should be a piece of cake!Boy, are you in for the ride of your life.
Relationships: Zim (Invader Zim)/Reader, Zim x reader
Comments: 15
Kudos: 161





	1. Coals

What I do is simple. I go in, I burn shit down, I get out. 

I'll get right to the point. I’ve been a professional arsonist for hire for...Jeez, since I was like, what, 16? It took on a life of its own after I lit my boss’s car on fire in the lot out behind the shitty sandwich shop I worked for as a favor to a co-worker. I figured hey, first offense, I was a minor, I'd get off with a slap on the wrist. 

But, as fate would have it, I was never caught. Turns out I have a real knack for burning shit down. Long story short, the word spread like wildfire (Ba-dum-tss) and soon I was getting calls from friends of friends, enemies of enemies... I became a hot topic (Alright, I'll give the fire puns a rest.) as far as the darknet and criminal underworld goes. 

But god, as soon as I got paid for that first arson gig... the idea of doing anything else flew out the window.

That’s why I’m here right now, under the cover of darkness as I move up the building, my grappling hook attaching to a ledge with ease as I leap, swinging and landing softly on the glass side of the office building. 

It’s a pretty standard gig. This cheating bastard went and got another woman pregnant, so his disgruntled wife found me online, and hired me to torch his office. Destroy everything. She’s payin’ me 10K for this thing. What a sucker. I would have done it for 5. But hey, that cash'll pay for better Christmas gifts for my niece and nephew at the very least, right? 

I reach a ledge on the 42nd floor, taking a glass cutter out and cutting the smallest hole you can imagine right over where the lock is. The whole wall here is glass, and the wife had left a lamp on in here. That way I’d know which office to hit, and the cameras couldn’t pick me up. 

I’m able to aim my tiny (trusty) device straight at the camera, traceless beams of light combatting it and blinding the camera before I push the window up. 

I roll my, what I call a "torch kit", inside, letting it roll to where the lamp was plugged in before shutting the window, pressing the little detonator and stepping to stand behind the only concrete section of the wall, taking the detonator with me. 

I watch as the device explodes, the liquid leaving it dissolving its casing and shorting out the electrical socket. The fluids catch flame, and the fumes from the burning fluids fuel the fire faster. The extra oxygen should make the fire strong enough to blow the windows out, and the hole I'd made will be completely gone. 

And speak of the devil-! 

I cover my head as I duck down slightly a split second before the glass explodes in front of me, the flames growing bigger as they lick the city sky. 

I cackle as I watch. Man, this’ll never get old. 

And as I watch the flames, mesmerized for a moment, I notice something... odd. 

Is that a person?

Man, I’m glad I had the sense to have my climbing gear on, because I almost leapt off of the building in fear. Well- scratch that. Not fear. Just... surprise. 

There’s something clinging to the building on long, spider-like legs on the other side of the flames, higher up.

No.

That's not human.

I can’t make out any features, but I can tell this... thing... with its short stature and long spider legs, is watching me. 

It must realize that I’m watching it too, because it literally ROCKETS off through the sky. 

I watch it for as long as I can, completely and utterly confused. Sure, I've never seen another person up on a building during a job, but I’ve never seen anything INHUMAN either! U-unless pigeons count. 

I realize I’ve spent too much time here, and the fire department will probably be called in soon. I make quick work off my gear, leftover gadgets in my bag as I leap silently from the building, the specially designed boots (Made lovingly for me by my brother-in-law. He said my niece’s game, Portal, had inspired them.) saving me from broken ankles as I land on the nearest rooftop, disappearing into the night. 

I try to shake the thought of that... thing out of my head. 

What if it comes back? 

What if it finds me? 

And of course, the most pressing question;

What was it? 

I shiver. 

Don’t think about it. 

It’s probably nothing. 

I make it down the fire escape of this shitty building I'm on, and I look like just another bum on the street as I make my way home.

I walk briskly forward through the cold, shaking off the strange encounter.

Ugh, I'm overreacting.

I’ll probably never see that thing again.


	2. Wood chips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a couple weeks since you've seen that thing on that last job. It's been pushed from your mind, and you're at your family's home for a nice Thanksgiving.

I shut the door to the house behind me as the Professor lets me inside with a jovial smile. Well, I assume he’s smiling. I can’t see his mouth. Or eyes. 

“Y/n!” 

He pulls me in for a hug, the metal of his arms chilling me through his lab coat. Aaah, still a dork, I see. 

“Children! Come and greet-” 

“Aunt Y/n!!!” 

Dib sprints forward, hugging me tight, almost knocking me back against the door. Jeez, what’s this kid been doin’, lifting weights? 

“Hey, kiddo!” 

I hug him back, spotting Gaz not too far away, hanging out on the couch, playing on her... game thingy. 

“Hiya, Gaz!” 

She gives me a grunt, not even looking up from her screen. Ahhh, gotta love her. 

Dib lets me go before grabbing a hold of my hand, trying to drag me to his room. “Aunt Y/n, you’re never gonna believe what I fou-” 

“Now son,” The professor interrupts, shooing Dib away from me. “Your aunt didn’t travel all this way-” 

“I live ten minutes away.” 

“-to listen to you talk about your ghosts and goblins. I’m sure she’d be happy to hear about real science over dinner!” 

I sigh, following the two to the dining room, where the table was set, and Gaz sat at her chair, playing her game. Wait, she was just- how did she- oh, nevermind. 

It was nice, to get to eat dinner with my family like this. My sister – uh, stepsister, had married him when I was just a baby. Okay, I was like, five, but you get it. She’d been with him a few years, and then after Dib and Gaz were born, she... well, we don’t talk about it. 

Back to this... dinner thing. Thanksgiving. Whatever. 

I try to be as involved as I can in my niece and nephew’s lives, because I know their dad isn’t. That, and these three are the only family I've ever known, pretty much. I was still just a kid when they were born, but hey, I’ve always done my best. 

I give the professor a hand in bringing all the food to the table, and Dib and Gaz take their seats as we do. 

And, of course, the professor gets into a long-winded toast... to science. 

“If I could have your attention, please!” He announces happily, holding up his glass of wine. I hold up mine as well, waiting for him to continue. “My family... where would I be without you all? And science, of course, but I promise I won't go on foreve-” aaaaand, that's where I stop listening.

There he goes. He does this every year, and I’ve got the whole thing memorized by now. 

“Pst.” 

I look from the professor, who isn’t paying attention to any of us as he continues speaking, to Gaz, who also isn’t paying any attention (distracted by her game, of course.) to Dib, who is sitting next to me. 

“Pssst.” 

Okay, it was him. 

“Yeah, bud?” 

He motions for me to lean down, and I do, listening carefully to what he was trying to tell me. 

“I’m gonna cut right to the chase. I know your secret, and I want to hire you.” 

I stop. Secret? What, my arson gigs? There’s no way this kid knows anything about that. The only way he could know anything about that is if he were on the dark web. Or he’d gotten a ref from a former client. 

“Hire me for what, Dib?” I figure playing dumb with him will work, because I’m not sure how the professor will take having a... oh shit, I’m a criminal. A criminal in the family. He thinks I paint for a living. Plus, wouldn’t my family knowing about what I really do put them in danger? 

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. I know a lot more than you think...” He pauses dramatically as he squints at me. “Fire Poppy.” 

I tense up. That’s the name I give my clients when I’m asked. That’s my handle. 'cept there's an underscore in there. Eh, he knows. Guess that cat’s out of the bag. 

“Dad,” Dib looks to his father, who stops talking for a brief moment to listen to him. “May I be excused? Just for a minute!” 

He cocks his head, but says yes nonetheless. 

After Dib leaves the room, I stand too. “Oh! I forgot, I brought a bottle of your favorite wine as a gift! I left it in the car – I'll be right back.” I quickly follow Dib, who’s waiting for me on the other side of the wall, leaning against it like he was some kind of secret agent. I snort. Just like his mom, this one. 

“Come with me, aunt Y/n.” 

He grabs me by the hand and drags me to his bedroom, shutting the door behind us and quickly crossing the space to grab a little briefcase (Aww!) and some kind of file. 

He hands me the fire first, and I sit down in his little spinny chair. 

“I need your help. I need you to burn down this house,” He opens the file in my hands, and inside is a number of pages with handwritten notes and several photographs of a tiny house tucked between two buildings. There are a ton of gnomes outside of it. “That isn’t really a house! Well, I mean it is a house technically, but it ISN’T! It’s a base, aunt Y/n. An ALIEN BASE.” 

I flip through the pages, and the word “Zim” pops up several times throughout them. 

“What’s a ‘Zim’?” 

“He’s an ALIEN! Remember that alien I told you about in my class?? That’s him! He’s tried to destroy me, and he’ll take over the earth if I don’t stop him!” 

I squint. He’s told me about this kid before, yeah. Vents about him a lot. But I can’t burn down his classmate’s house for nothing. My minimal asking price is at least 1,500. I can't waste my supplies like this. But on the other hand, he IS my only nephew.

“And before you say no, I have two more things to tell you. One;” He turns the pages in my lap, and there are more, blurrier, pictures of the house. The lower half. “I’m convinced there’s more to this place than what meets the eye. There’s an underground lab, I just know it! If you can burn it down, he’ll have no choice but to expose the secret entryway!” 

I wait for him to finish his tirade. He then places the tiny briefcase in my lap, opening it, and turning it towards me so I can see the contents. 

“Two-” 

“Awwwwwww!” I coo at him as I get a look at what’s in there. It’s filled to the brim with crumpled bills and scattered coins. He really is serious about this! 

“No!” He shouts, blushing with embarrassment. “No, not ‘aww,’ this is serious! There’s two hundred dollars there. An offer you can’t refuse.” 

He crosses his arms like he’s just won chess, and I close the case, smiling at him. 

“Dib-” 

“Agent Mothman, please. This is strictly business, Fire Poppy.” 

I snort as I take his hands in mine. 

“Agent Mothman,” I start again, happy when he perks up a little bit. “I know you really want me to go and take care of this classmate, but I’m a professional. I can’t ju-” 

“Please.” He interrupts, squeezing my hands and looking to me with desperation. “Please, I’m begging you. Nobody believes me about him, and if something doesn’t get done, the whole world will be destroyed! Please, it took me a year to gather all of the information you need and the money to pay you!” 

We sit in silence for a moment, and his brows knit. 

“Please.” 

I sigh, caving a little. Money is money, and I love this kid. I’ll just make sure nobody’s home when I burn the place down. No harm, no foul, right? 

There’s another moment of heavy silence. 

“...I guess I can go ahead a-” 

He cuts me off with a tight hug and cries of “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank y-” 

“Buddy,” I pull away from him as I stand, taking the tiny case and file with me. “Chill out, okay? Don’t get too excited, I have four other bookings before your job, okay? And don’t tell your father.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it! He’d never believe me anyway.” 

“For once, that’s a good thing.” 

The both of us leave to exit his room, and I fish my car keys out of my pocket. “I’m gonna go put this stuff in my car, and then I'm gonna go steal a bottle of wine from the neighbors for your dad. I’ll be back in a second. Tell ‘em I said they could start without me, okay?” 

Dib beams up at me, eyes bright and happy for once. 

“You’re the best, Aunt Y/n.” 

I ruffle his hair with a smile before ushering him off and towards the dining room. 

I head out the front door, the only things to be heard the sound of the crickets and the rustling of an animal in a nearby bush. 

I look towards the sound as I unlock my car, putting Dib’s case file and money in the front seat. I hear something else in the bush and freeze in my tracks. I could have sworn I saw a leg or something... Weird. Probably just a... cat or something. I only watch for another moment more before trudging towards the grass that leads to the neighbor’s house, trying to shake off the feeling of being watched.

I pull on my gloves so I don't leave any prints when I break into this joint.

Alrighty, what kind of wine does the professor like again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Dib. Never change, you paranoid little dude.


	3. Candle

So this is the place, huh? 

I take a look at the tiny house from my position above it, scoping it out. There hasn’t been any movement, lights on, or anything since I started watching it before the sun went down. I shiver a little, the warmth from my thermos of tea completely gone now. Maybe it’s time to get started. This street is pretty much deserted right now anyway, but there’s no such thing as being too safe, right? 

I pull on my favorite weaponized gloves – the kind with flamethrowers in the palms and lighters on the pointer fingers. Maybe for this one I'll make it look like a wiring issue. But too many of those will spark (ha) suspicion... 

I tap my foot against the side of the building before scooting closer off of the edge. Maybe a grilling accident will do. 

I silently leap from the building, stealthily approaching the house as I make my way out back. The back of the house is plain, and there’s barely anything for me to work with. I think for a second, keeping my distance. I know there’s a grill on one of the neighbor’s fire escapes, which is a huge hazard, by the way. Maybe I can use that to make it look like this Zim kid and his family barbequed and forgot to put their fire out. Maybe hypothetically they’d left a kitchen window open, and the curtains inside caught, and their whole house went up in flames! 

I lean against the building as I squint against the building in the dark. Being out here is making me feel paranoid, like I'm being watched or something. I shake my head. 

I realize quickly that my plan won’t work. God, this one is tricky. It seems to be pretty hard to burn down. The place seems to be made of metal. And plus, my grill plan won’t work because I may have some interesting trinkets and gadgets, but none of them can give me superhuman strength. I can’t silently lug a giant-ass grill to this backyard. 

I think for a moment. 

Dib’s file mentioned that that the gnomes out front had some sort of technology in them, right? I look to the gnomes, which are as creepy as you can imagine. If one of them “explodes” that could be what makes the house catch. Let’s see- Oh! Chalk dust is flammable, and if a child lives here, people would chalk it up (ha!) to sidewalk chalk and think nothing more of it. The people around this town aren’t exactly hard to fool anyway. 

I grab a bag of the dust from one of my pockets, making sure it was full before I execute my plan. 

It shouldn’t take much to make it look like the gnome short-circuited. One little watermelon should suffice. Watermelon’s what I like to call these little M&M sized explody do-dads that I’m particularly fond of. They don’t even have water in them. It’s a special kinda goo I mix myself, thank you very much. Shorts tech out, and the goo's flammable. 

I slink along the house, casually tossing one of the watermelons to the feet of one of the gnomes, taking note of the sidewalk chalk drawings that were already all the way up the house’s pathway. Oh, nice. The kid did my work for me. 

I quickly throw my bag of chalk dust into the air by the left corner of the house, about to activate my gloves when- THWACK. 

FUCK, THAT HURT. 

I’m knocked upside the head with something, and the shock and pain knocks me to my knees. 

I’m so dizzy I don’t realize some kind of pink and amber bubble is forming around me until it’s already done and I’m trapped inside. 

Shit. Shit. Shit- the ground opens up beneath the bubble, and the whirring of machines are all I can hear as I attempt to burn my way out of this stupid thing. 

I stand, pressing my palms flat against this... hampster ball thing I'm in as I active them, the heat from the flame not doing the slightest bit of damage to whatever the hell this thing is. 

I move further underground, and when the bubble stops, the force of the sudden halt forces me back to my knees, the heat from my gloves quickly snuffed. I quickly realize that I’m in some kind of underground lab. 

Oh, fuck me. 

Dib was right. 

I don’t stop, though. I continue to try and burn my way free, only having to stop when the air gets thin and I have to gasp to draw a breath. 

I hear... slow clapping? 

No, no. Those are footsteps on metal floors, slowly approaching me. 

I whip around towards the noise to find a small silhouette a little ways away. It’s backlit by a blinding light pouring through the doorway behind it. I can’t make out any features yet. 

Then it speaks. 

“You fell right for it, fire-hyooman! HAH!” The voice is hard to describe. Sort of high pitched, but still distinctly male. His rough shouts and laughs are akin to that of the screeching of nails on a chalkboard in terms of how annoying they are. “As if a filthy human like yourself could burn down Zim’s base.” 

Oh, god. 

The figure walks forward, but not using its legs. Or, I guess it does, but the legs carrying it are protruding from behind it, and have a spider-like appearance, lifting the figure’s body up and off the ground by a few inches to the figure and I are eye to eye. He's the thing I saw on that office building that night. 

“We meet at last, Fire-pig Y/n.” 

I scoff at the name, staring at the... person? In front of me. He has green skin, black hair, no ears or nose, and violet eyes. Crazy teeth. He’s wearing some sort of pink uniform, black gloves, and black tights. He’s got some pretty nice boots, too. If he doesn’t murder me I might want a pair. 

“And who are you supposed to be?” 

I point at him, a small blue flame sparking on my fingertip that he watches with mild interest before addressing me. 

“I am the mighty Zim!!!” 

I stare, unimpressed. 

“So you’re the kid, huh? The uh, the alien?” 

“Oh, I am no child. No, no. I know my disguise is clever and impossible to see through, but I am far older than your puny, putrid brain can fathom. But no one will believe you if you try to tell another being.” 

He crosses his arms as he looks me over, and I do the same to him. I decide to get right to the chase. I’ve never been caught before. Maybe I can cut him a deal or something. 

“You gonna kill me?” 

He’s about to answer when a distinct squeaking noise that sounds like a cross between a squeaky toy and footsteps quickly make their way up to the orb, and a tiny green... dog? Is squished against the bubble I'm being held in. 

“Hellooooooooooooooooooooooooo, pretty ladyyyyy!” 

The silly, childlike voice comes from the cock-eyed green dog, and I squat to be at near eye level with it. 

“Hi there. Am I about to be murdered?” I keep my ‘i’m talkin’ to a kid’ voice on as I address the little thing, and it lowers its hood to reveal its true face. Aww, this thing’s pretty cute. Its baby-blue eyes look up at me with a soft smile. 

“No, you won’t meet your doom!” And then he goes on to sing about doom cheerily. When I say ‘sing about’ doom, I mean he’s singing that one word over and over again. 

“That’s enough, Gir! Go watch your hideous monkey show!” 

Zim shoos the little... robot thing? Robot away, and he happily toddles off with one last wave to me, which I return. I look up at Zim, whose spider legs are now gone. 

“So if I'm not about to d-” 

“Silence, human slave! Zim will do the speaking!” 

I activate the fire on my palm right in front of his face in an attempt to make him stop talking. To distract him, at least. He’s unbothered by it. 

“I have been observing you since our encounter approximately three earth weeks ago. I didn’t think I would find anything on this filthy planet that would interest me, but your destructive ways are simply too familiar. You should feel incredibly lucky.” 

He smirks, smug. 

“You are like Zim. But in no way as superior or amazing!” 

He turns away from me, marching off to the side of the room I'm being kept in. He boots up the computer, and multiple reels of footage play. All of me. All on jobs. All sorts of angles. 

I’m shocked. 

He’s the first person to ever see me torch something. And I’ve never seen my own face while doing it. 

I look completely focused until a spark forces something to burn. Until the match is struck. The lighter on. Then when whatever I'm taking down goes up in flame, my face lights up with joy. There’s madness in me as the firelight dances in my eyes. 

Plus, my ass looks really good in the firelight. God DAMN. 

Anyway, the final bit of footage he shows me is of me, destroying that office building. Our first encounter. 

The camera this had been filmed on zooms in on my face after the window breaks, my cheery smile on display. Then my eyes flick to what lies just beyond the camera – now known as Zim – and my face shifts to express just a hint of confusion after I jump slightly. The footage abruptly ends after that, and Zim turns back to me. 

“Now that I know what you’re capable of, I would like to have access to this... earth technology. It may be primitive, but on this planet it will prove quite useful.” 

“So what are you saying, exactly? You’re just gonna rob me? What kind of alien are you?” 

He huffs, looking annoyed at my outburst. Good! Maybe he’ll think twice before kidnapping someone next time. 

“I’m giving you an opportunity! Be my very first human slave and live, or Zim will have no choice but to dispose of you. Which would be a shame, really...” He presses a button, and some air holes appear in the bubble. Oh, thank fucking fuck. I gasp as the fresh air hits me, relieved. “You seem to be the least dumb and most fun out of all of your disgusting kind.” 

I suck the air through the hole, and once I've caught my breath, I realize he’s right in front of me again. 

“So no murder?” 

“No murder.” 

I think for a second. Well, I kinda have to weigh my options here. Isn’t this guy technically the enemy? He’s posing a threat to the planet, like Dib said. God, speaking of Dib... he was right. I’m buying that kid an ice cream when I get out of here. But back to the urgent matter here. On the other hand, everyone who has ever spoken of arson has always sounded horrified by it instead of fascinated. And who knows what kind of torchy tech he could have around here for me to use? 

“Okay, Zim,” I remove my weaponized gloves and stuff them in my pocket, holding up my hands in surrender. He eyes me suspiciously. On the bright side of things, I won’t have to worry about the cops comin’ for me here. 

“Are you gonna feed me and give me water?” 

“If it keeps you alive.” 

Okay, free food and drinks. Roof over my head. No bills... 

"Are you going to torture me?" 

"That depends on your actions, hyooman stink." 

Hmm. Wouldn't be the first time I've been through the wringer. I've never been tortured, but still... 

“I’ll cut you a deal. I’ll let you tag along on my ‘destructive ventures’ so you can, y’know, use my techniques or whatever if you teach me about your alien tech in return. I won’t burn down your base, either. All you have to do is teach me and... y’know, not kill me. You teach me, i'll teach you, and neither of us die or have our homes burnt down.” 

Zim looks deep in thought for a moment as he squints at me. 

I lean casually against the bubble, trying to pour on the charm. 

"We got a deal, spaceman?" 

He doesn’t say a word before turning on his heel, marching out the way he’d come in, leaving me alone in my bubble. 

Okie dokie, then. Guess i'm sleeping here. 

Goodnight, I guess.


	4. Blue flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is in Zim's POV

Zim watches this pathetic prisoner, oh, watches it he does. 

Er, I suppose it’s an Earth female. It presents itself in such a way, anyway. I know there’s only one way to know for sure, but Zim would rather die by her firey hand! 

I sit at my monitoring station, where I watch it take off its inferior human clothing-?! Oh. It’s only the jacket. Thank the Tallest. She folds it and places it under her head as she lays on the floor of the bubble. At least she’s adjusting nicely. 

But why is she so cooperative? She has not once threatened Zim... It's suspicious. 

I shake my head, straightening my spine. I am a mighty Irken invader! Of course she would know her place and bow to me! Sort of. 

Though that deal of hers... I wonder, is she serious? Doesn’t that silly little earthling know I could dispose of her in an instant?? That she should fear all the countless things I could do to her?! 

Perhaps she thinks she will be able to outsmart Zim! Ah, but I am far too clever to fall for any fire-pig tricks. 

I watch it attempt to get comfortable in its little bubble, and I idly wonder how I’m supposed to disarm it. She seems to have an array of mysterious earth weapons, all involving fire. She either steals the parts or acquires them “legally” to build her own weaponry. She seems to have a higher intellect than her fellow dirt-pig kind. 

I watch her sleep in my monitor. 

Perhaps I can ship her back to Ir- 

“WHATCHA DOIN?!” 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAH!” 

I jump nearly out of my skin at Gir’s shout, and I turn to yell at him for daring to catch Zim off-guard. It is also worth noting that he has both of his feet in jars of peanut butter, and he keeps scooping it out and smearing it all over himself as he watches me. 

“GIR! I thought I instructed you to go and watch your horrible show!” 

“It’s over now! Monkey went bye-bye.” He hops into my lap, and I shudder. Disgusting peanut butter... all over Zim... 

“What’cha gonna do with the pretty lady?” 

I sneer. Why does he keep calling her that? I look at the sleeping fire-human, wondering what I’m going to tell Gir. 

If Zim is being completely honest, I do not want to kill her. It’s so difficult to find a worthy opponent, and if I can obtain her undying loyalty, this planet shall suffer under my iron fist! Yes, YES. They will obey the fist! 

Gir looks up at me, and I sigh, zooming in on the human. I have to make sure it’s asleep before I go back in there. If I go back in there. Who knows what tricks she could have up her sleeve? The way she looked at Zim earlier could have been the dreaded ‘flirting’ that Zim sees so much in skool. Disgusting. Dangerous, even! 

“...I’m not sure yet, Gir. The puny human has tried to make a deal with Zim, and I-” I laugh as I recall it. The fire human thinks she has the upper hand, but Zim ha- 

Wait, hold on a second. 

Perhaps she does have a hand. It is not upper, though. It is not above Zim. 

“You what?” 

I have never seen a human with such destructive tendencies that was not carted away by their weak attempts at law enforcement. Those people were absolutely insane! Zim would never enslave humans like those. But this specimen is different. She seems more hinged. She has control. 

She is calcluating. Like Zim. 

But she is still a dirty, disgusting, unpredictable hyooman. So she is also NOTHING like Zim! 

“...I said I don’t know, Gir! I will probably end up downloading the contents of her pathetic skull into the computer.” 

Gir looks to me, upset. 

“...But I like her!” 

I groan, shooing him from my lap. Gir likes EVERYONE. It doesn’t mean a thing! He’ll find some other human to play with and then forget all about her! 

But those eyes... those pathetic, sadness-filled eyes! 

Gir tears up as just keeps looking at me, and I feel a twinge of... guilt... in my squiddlyspooch. 

I sigh, annoyed. 

“...Fine. I won’t dispose of the smelly human-” 

“Friend!!!” 

“Not a friend!!!” I stand, shutting off the monitor. She’s not doing anything interesting right now anyway. Plus, I need to find the time to mull over this stupid ‘deal’ that she’s proposed. I don’t know why I'm even considering it! 

Maybe it’s because she’s been the only interesting thing on this planet worth studying. But on the other hand, she was at Dib-filth's home about a week ago, where he hired her before they ate their disgusting earth food. She is obviously working with Dib, but who's to say her loyalty cannot be swayed to Zim? and speaking of the awful, disgusting Dib: How he managed to get the pictures of my house I'll never know. I’ll have to up security. I’m just happy that this “Y/n” was dumb enough to actually try to take down Zim! 

“...I’ll be working, Gir. On something...fireproof. Do not disturb me.” 

I turn from my console to move to another part of my secret lab, leaving Gir to do... whatever it is he does. 

Maybe it will be fun to toy with the Flaming Poppy. 

We’ll see.


	5. Kindling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kicks up from your POV!

I must pass out at some point during the night, because I wake the next morning to that little robot thing bringing me a bowl of cereal (without milk) with a whole orange in the middle. Not peeled or anything. Just a straight-up orange. 

He shoves it through the bubble with ease, and I take it with a quiet thank you. There’s no spoon, but whatever. I look to the robot. 

“Hey, what’s your name, again? Gurb?” 

“Gir!” 

“Gir.” I repeat, taking a hand full of the sugared-up cereal and popping it in my mouth. “Can you tell me where Zim is?” 

He never answered my question last night, regarding our deal. Never came back, either. 

Gir nods happily. 

“He went to skool!” 

Oh yeah, he poses as a kid. Little creepy, but who am I to judge, really? I wait for Gir to keep talking as he plops on the ground... but he doesn’t. 

“Doooo you know when he’ll be back? I just kinda have to get out of this bubble.” I hope it’s soon. I gotta fuckin’ pee, little dude. 

Gir shakes his head, happily looking at me. 

“My master likes watching you, but I dunno why. Alls I know is that I like going with you to play with the fire because I get to roast marshmalloooooows!” He throws his hands in the air in joy. 

Hmm. That’s a little creepy. The stalking and enjoying it thing. Not the marshmallows. 

I peel my orange, and Gir eyes it up. Maybe he’s hungry? Does Zim feed him? I know I shouldn’t worry about this little... whatever he is, but I can’t help it, really. Is this that maternal instinct that everybody can’t stop talking about? Eh, maybe. 

“...Wanna slice of this?” 

I hold up the orange, and he smiles widely, excited as he nods his head. I hold the orange the farthest away from him that I can, glad he looked disappointed. I just hope he wants this fruit badly enough for this to work.

“If you want a piece, you’ve gotta let me out of here.” 

Gir looks seriously conflicted as he looks me over, his eyes landing on the orange while I munch on the cereal. I hope he lets me out because man, I was serious earlier -- I’ve really gotta pee. 

“Waddya say, huh?” 

“Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm...” 

*** 

Much later that day, At skool, in the halls: 

***

Dib watches Zim from where he stands at the end of the hall, squinting with suspicion. His Aunt Y/n hadn’t replied to his emails, and she’s the only one who always makes sure to reply to him! She never ignored him! 

According to his research, his aunt had gone on at least a thousand of those arson jobs! And as soon as he hires her to go and take down his arch-nemesis she stops replying?! 

That’s no coincidence!

Dib decides that the best thing to do is confront him. He pulls out a capri-sun from his backpack as he takes bold steps towards Zim, who was fumbling around in his locker. Dib slams it shut, and Zim whips his head around to glare at him with a slight growl. 

Dib stabs the pouch with its straw, holding it with both hands and aiming it right at Zim’s face, ready to squeeze. 

“What have you done with my Aunt, you sick alien?!” 

Zim’s look of annoyance is accompanied by confusion as he looks between Dib and the juice pouch. 

“Your what?” 

“My aunt, Zim! My aunt!” 

“Zim has no use for earth bugs!” 

Dib squeezes the pouch slightly, a few drops of juice falling to the hallway’s floor. 

“I’m not playin’ around, Zim.” He narrows his eyes. “This stuff’ll burn you so bad you’ll wish you’d never come to earth! Now tell me what you did with my Aunt Y/n!” 

Something clicks in Zim’s mind when he says his aunt’s name, he can see it. A knot of worry and fear twists in his stomach when Zim give him a grin. An evil, evil grin. 

Dib squeezes the pouch with all his might, and Zim swiftly steps to the side, all of the juice hitting Ms. Bitters instead, who had been walking past. 

She makes a horrible rattling and hissing noise as she looks down at Dib, who had tried to hide the pouch behind his back as he stuttered and stammered and struggled to explain to Ms Bitters that- 

“You’re coming with me, young man.” 

Her voice full of malice, Ms Bitters grabs Dib by the arm and drags him away, and all he’d gotten from Zim was a final smug wave as he was drug away. 

“No! No, please- you don’t understand-” 

He’s sat at his desk in her classroom now, his words going in one ear and out the other. “I’m calling your father. I don’t get paid enough to sit here and deal with you.” 

She shuts the door, and Dib is alone. 

He groans, rubbing his eyes, frustrated. 

“You have to listen to me! He’s got her! Zim is an evil alien who has captured somebody I hold dear! Who knows what he’s doing to her?! Who knows what horrible torture she’s being forced to endure at this very moment?!” 

*** Meanwhile, back at Zim’s lair** 

“Patty cake, patty cake, baker’s man-” 

Gir and I are sitting cross-legged on the floor, playing pattycake. Now don’t get me wrong, I tried to get out of here this morning. First thing. But I can’t melt anything and everything’s written in some kind of code or language I've never seen before. So getting through these doors and up the tubes to the surface (at least, I assume they lead to the surface,) was next to impossible. 

So after Gir let me out we’d shared the orange. Like I promised. Turns out this bot’s like a little kid. Absolutely adorable, mildly insane, doesn’t make a lot of sense, smells weird, the whole nine. 

Gir and I have watched a lotta his favorite shows (or he has. I’ve been fiddling with tech. Everything I can get my hands on.) played tag, hide and seek, things like that. 

So because I’m trapped (and my phone isn’t getting any signal) I really can’t do anything but play pattycake with Gir until Zim gets back. I hope he takes that deal. Mainly because I'm out of leverage and I don’t really want to have to bite the dust just yet. 

We finish up pattycake and Gir demands another game with a cry of “Again, again!!” 

Hmm. Maybe I can...? 

“Okay!” I clap my hands as I stand, pulling out my phone. “New game!” 

Gir’s face lights up as he looks up at me, standing and hopping up and down in one place. “Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!!!” 

“Alright, buddy! This next game is lots of fun. It’s called “hide and seek.”” 

His eyes seem to widen, somehow, and he smiles up at me. 

“How do we play?!?!” 

“Okay, so-” I usher him to stand in front of some of the strange alien tech, facing him away from me. “You count toooo uh, 100, with your eyes closed- yup, just like that. Cover them with your hands,” I take a silent step backwards, continuing to talk to him as I turn to face the main door with some sort of keypad to the right. “And I’m gonna hide while you’re counting, and you have to come and find me. Got it?” 

“Yes, I dooooo!” 

“Okay! Go ahead and start counting!” I step up the keypad as I listen idly to Gir count up to a hundred. 

I’m not sure why I hadn’t thought of this before. I can just- just take the chalk dust from my pocket, which I hadn’t gotten to finish using, pouring some in the palm of my hand and blowing it onto the keypad, watching as Zim’s fingerprints were made obvious on it. 

Okay, okay, it’s a five digit code. This shouldn’t take long. 

“Thirty twoooo, thirty threee,”Gir hadn’t gotten very far, thank goodness. But that doesn’t mean I can stop now. 

I hit a few keys, and a red light buzzes idly above the keypad. Okay, not that. 

Ugh, if only I knew what all these symbols meant! They’re probably some alien numbers or something...I should memorize some of these. For later. That, and they’re neat. 

But first, of course, my life. Which is in peril. 

“Forty five-” 

I swallow harshly, pressing more buttons. 

BZZZZ 

I try a third code. 

BZZZZZ 

Another. 

BZZZ 

Fifth time’s the charm? 

I’m expecting a red light, but am greeted instead with..nothing. There’s whirring, and a beep comes from the other side of the door. 

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes...” 

I hop in front of the door, bouncing on my heels as I prepared myself for the doors to open. 

And they did. 

And I found myself eye to eye with Zim. 

Both of our eyes widen, and it doesn’t take me long to realize that I’m fucked. 

I laugh nervously, taking a step back, but he steps forward to close the added space again, his eyes glaring into mine. 

“Hey...how are ya?” 

“How did you get out?!” 

He points an accusatory finger in my direction, and I put my hands behind my back, trying to seem submissive or afraid. But I’m actually rummaging around for something to get me out of this situation. 

My eyes flick to the still- open door behind him. 

“Well, you know how humans are!” I laugh again, cold fear shaking me to my core. But I refuse to shake. 

I feel a smoke bomb in my jacket pocket. 

“Ninety six, ninety seven...” 

“We’re always making plans uh...” I give him a smile, which makes him narrow his eyes. “Go up in smoke.” 

“One hundred!” 

I throw the smoke bomb harshly to the floor. 

A lot of things happen at once. 

Zim makes an attempt to tackle me as he coughs violently, those odd spider legs jabbing blindly through the smoke, which is thick as it swirls around our heads. 

I dart for the exit, and I’m so sure I'm home free, until I hear a joyful cry from Gir which gets louder and louder, until- 

“ACHK-!” 

Gir attaches himself to my leg with an iron grip, tripping me and forcing me to fall forward, busting my nose on the floor. 

I cry out in pain, holding my nose as Gir toddles to sit on my chest, happily proclaiming “I gotcha!!!” 

Zim’s metal legs grip my ankle, and my arms instinctively wrap around Gir, my body curling protectively around him as I’m roughly pulled across the floor, tossed back and away from the door, sliding across the cold floor, still curled in a ball around Gir as the smoke begins to clear. 

Zim’s bent over, still coughing, head flicking up to allow him to glare at me. 

He stands up straight, trying to puff up his chest to look bigger as he clenches his fists, stalking towards me. 

I scramble to sit up, still holding Gir protectively as I meet his glare with one of equal fire. 

We’re both breathing heavily, and I note that the door closes with a heavy clang. 

He says nothing, only glaring at me. 

God, he’s probably going to dissect me and feed me to the crows. Maybe he’ll gut me and turn me into a robot. Or maybe he’s gonna eat me-?! 

“Oh no...” Gir muses, his little hand touching my bloodied nose. “You’ve got a boo-boo!” 

He hops out of my arms with ease, going to rummage through some drawers. 

Zim and I still silently stare. 

God, why isn’t he saying anything? 

Gir comes back with some tissues, which I take with a small smile and a quiet “Thank you” as he moves to sit in my lap again. 

Zim still doesn’t speak – he merely takes another step forward, squatting so the both of us were at eye level again. 

“...If you were anyone else," There's pure rage burning in his eyes as he snarls. "you’d be dead.” 

I stay silent, my eyes watering from the pain. 

“So you’re keepin’ me around, then?” I give him a cocky smile, which earns me a glare. 

“Tragically.” 

He stands at attention – military, I’d guess, looking down at me from where I sat, cross-legged, holding the tissues to my still-bleeding nose. 

“Aw, come on,” I start, watching Gir roll around in my lap, trying to get comfortable. Maybe I could try and charm my way out of this... "I'm sorry about the whole... gettin' out of the bubble thing! And the smoke bomb." His eyes do not leave me for a moment, watching me with caution. "But uh, I've gotta ask why you're really keepin' me alive."

He says nothing, not giving me an inch. “You’re fascinated by me, Is that it?” I smirk up at him. “C'mon,It’s obvious." It really wasn't- i'm takin' a real chance here. "Why else would you keep me alive, right? And I'll gladly allow you to, y’know, observe my techniques. My tricks, all that, For a price.” 

“Zim has none of your pathetic earth money to spare.” He walks over to the lowered bubble prison, probably still wondering how I got out. "Not that I would consider making a single deal with a creature like you."

“I don’t want cash, man. I’ve got enough of that. And uh, why not? All I want is knowledge.” I pull the tissues from my nose, moving them so a clean bit was catching blood, holding eye contact with him. “Teach me about your weird alien stuff. Ah, ah! Before you say no! I will not burn your base down, and you’ll get to watch me burn things down. I’ll teach you some of my best tricks.” 

“Zim is far more superior.” 

“So take my pitiful deal. What have you got to lose?” 

He glares at me before he taps the bubble once, and it springs up, completely intact. He walks back over to me as I stand, my nose throbbing. At least it’s stopped bleeding. 

“No." Shit. "Zim is in charge here -- I am the one to determine who lives and who dies! I will teach you nothing outside of what you NEED to know, and I will keep you alive. For now. Congratulations on becoming my first human slave!” 

He holds out his hand for me to shake, and I take it. When we shake, it’s official. We have a truce of sorts... He does not loosen his grip, and neither do I. 

“Do not disappoint me.” 

Our eye contact is electric as I smirk at him, hoping he can see the defiance in my eyes. 

“Right back atcha.” 

We break our contact, and he straightens himself, hands folded behind his back. Military. Definitely. 

“Let’s talk later about the specifics of our arrangement. But I can guarantee you that if you pull anything like that last stunt, I will not hesitate to dispose of you. GIR!” 

Gir is at his side in a flash, and before I can do anything, a single command comes through. “Secure a room to keep our new slave in.” 

“I’m not your slave.” 

“Yes, you are.” 

“Am not.” 

“Human!” 

“Alien!” 

We glare at each other, and I watch the exhaustion on his face, which he tries to mask with his bravado.

This was going to be exhausting.


	6. Twigs

When Gir returns, I’m very glad. Maybe I can construct some stuff to break me out of here after they take me to wherever they planned to keep me.

Zim instructs a “computer” to take us to my “cell” and the floor opens up beneath us, and we slowly lower. Woah, mini elevator things! Neat! 

When we stop, the room is dark – until my eyes adjust. There’s a cot in the corner, a workbench, and a chest, which seemed to be empty, and some blankets, neatly folded on the workbench. 

“You will sleep here! You will draw up blueprints for your little devices on that desk, and you will come up to the main house when Zim beckons you.” 

I narrow my eyes at him before looking around the room, running my hands over the walls. They look almost like jellyfish do, when they glow under a black light. The dark pink lights pulsing upwards from the floor to the ceiling against the dark walls are... oddly soothing. 

And absolutely fascinating. 

“...Where did you come from? To have all of this technology must mean that things on your planet are-” I shake my head, turning to look at him, eyeing me with an air of suspicion. 

“C’mooon, you can tell me!” 

He crosses his arms. 

I cross mine right back. 

“I’m not giving you any information that could put my mission in danger.” 

“We have a deal, spaceman.” 

“The deal is that you stay alive in exchange for serving me, Zim, your master.” 

“Kinky.” 

He groans quietly with annoyance, and Gir looks dimly on – until he toddles over to me, hopping up and down slightly. “What’s that mean?” 

“Nevermind it, Gir,” Zim and I answer at the same time, not breaking our eye contact. 

I sigh, taking a step forward. 

“How long are you planning on keeping me down here?” 

“As long as it takes for you to pledge your undying loyalty to me.” 

I raise a brow. “Give me some wiggle room.” 

“You have all the space you need for wiggling!” He gestures around the room, as if proving his point. Alright, this is gettin' a little old. I can't tell if he seriously doesn't metaphors or he's just being a dick. 

I pull out those trusty gloves of mine, holding one of my hands up, making a finger gun motion, flicking on a tiny flame on my pointer, pointing the finger gun right at him. Nothin' like a little reminder of what I can do here.

“We have an agreement. You don’t kill me, I’ll show you my little burning world.” I cock my head to the side. “And if I don’t burn your base down, I think you should show me your alien world. Don't you think that's fair? And- Now, remember, if I end up dead... all I'm saying is that a lotta desperate people will be after me upon my disappearance. Not to mention some pretty scary people can and will trace my death back to you.” 

He does nothing but glare. 

“You’re a smart guy. You know that my death will spell nothing but trouble for ya. So what’s it gonna be? Plus, shouldn’t I know what planet I'm doing dirty work for?” 

He hisses something that...sounds metallic before answering. 

“...I am from Irk.” 

I smile. Okay, cool. Progress. 

“...And that makes you... Irkish?” I smirk at his clearly annoyed state, putting on my best irish accent. “Luck ‘a the irkish!” 

“It’s IrkEN, pig-smelly!” 

I laugh as he moves to sit in a chair that rises from the floor, watching me with suspicious eyes. 

“It’s your turn to answer a question.” He assumes a posture that screams “I’m in charge here,” a certain fire in his eyes as he looks at me. 

“Why does the Dib refer to you as his ‘ant’? You’re not an earth insect. Is it... a status of sorts or... something?” 

I stifle a laugh, sitting on the cot in the corner. “I’m his...aunt. It means I’m his mother’s sister. We’re family.”

A mix of emotions flashes across his face. First his eyes widen with shock, then he sneers in disgust, and then it seems to me that an idea hit him. Out of nowhere. And he grins like the motherfucking Grinch. 

“How interesting!” 

Mmmm hmmm. Interesting my ass. He continues. 

“Does the Dib have any, oh, I don’t know, weaknesses? Does his house have any entry points I can use to enter and choke the life from him, perhaps?” 

I stare at him blankly. 

“You hurt that boy and I'll burn us both to the ground.” 

“I would love to see you try. “ 

I cock a brow. 

He seems to instantly regret his words, because he quickly backtracks, an accusatory finger pointing at me. 

“tHAT WAS NOT AN INVITATION!” 

I snort from my seat on the cot, crossing my arms. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” I’d tried to keep my murmur low enough for him to miss, but I guess I’d failed at that. His antennae slick back. 

“I have no time for your games, human. And no time to waste on conquering your pathetic planet. If you refuse to help me with the Dib,” He’d stood and begun to pace back and forth, which... isn’t that intimidating. At all. His physical appearance was actually adorable – and I wouldn’t pin him as a threat, normally. Hell, without this tech, would he still be a threat? “We will be heading out and burning to the ground the very staple of your society!” 

Welp. That didn’t sound good. But whatever keeps me alive, right? And uh... I could stand to dismantle society a little bit. 

I decide to be compliant for now. 

“Fine. When do we head out?” 

“As soon as that stupid Earth sun sets.” 

“What’s our target?” 

A wicked smile grows on his face, and the glowing walls give him an ominous look – and he gives a quiet evil laugh, which slowly grows in volume, and, after a moment, he responds with: 

“THE TOWN’S TOILET PAPER FACTORY!”


	7. Strike 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TO THE TOWN'S TOILET PAPER FACTORY!
> 
> What could possibly go wrong? :D

We don’t embark on our paper-burning little mission until a week has passed, and my god, was it a week of hell. I’ve been in that little fucking room the entire time pretty much, and he’d been making rounds to stop by and collect my blueprints I’d agreed to sketch up in return for, y’know, food. I bonded with the computer a little, and it seems pretty chill. So at least I kind of have a cellmate. 

Anyway, Zim’d been constructing everything I came up with, and now that he’s ready, it’s time to go burn this building down. Yippee. 

The toilet paper factory is empty at this hour, thank fucking god. I don’t have anything to mask the smell of burning people – and I can’t stop off to get anything, either. Just getting here was a whole fiasco all in itself. He put me in some weird space car – a poot cruiser? No wait, a VOOT cruiser. It’s a really amazing piece of technology, and m a n, that thing’d be great for raining fire from the skies... but we’re off-track here. This isn’t about his silly space car. It’s about this literal dumpster fire of a job. 

He put these handcuffs on me before carelessly tossing me in (the little bastard-) the back of the craft, and he flew too fast for me to sit up at first, with Gir singing some song about graham crackers the entire. Way. There. 

But it’s over now, and we’re standing on the roof of the place, and the night is pitch black – we can’t even see the stars from here. It’s weird, though... maybe it’s overcast. Maybe it’s due to rain. 

Gir runs around in circles, giggling like a maniac, as Zim uses some weird laser-pointer looking thing to cut a hole in the factory’s roof. He then pulls me close by the metal of the cuffs, making me stumble a bit. 

“Watch it,” I warn, unable to use that filter that makes you all... nice and pleasant. You know the one. 

He merely grunts in response, pressing the sides of the metal in a specific way to make them pop open suddenly, falling onto the roof with a clatter. I’ll have to remember that for later. 

“What’s the plan, spaceman?” I rub my wrists as I look around, wondering why we’re about to burn this place down in the first place – not that it really mattered. But it’d still be a nice thing to know. 

“The plan, human slave-” 

“Not a slave.” 

“-is you showing the almighty Zim your abilities and,” He waves his hand around a bit. “Y’know, the firey stuff you do. Go on.” 

I glare at him, rolling my eyes. 

“Alrighty, well uh, my gloves are for smaller jobs, so I’m not sure if I'll be using those...” I casually mosey on over to the hole, which was made over... well, I dunno. It’s a little dark to see. 

“Alright, it’s a toilet paper factory. Already high-risk and flammable. I can make it look like an accident so none of us leave any trace.” 

I look to Zim, who is watching me carefully, his eyes narrowed. 

“Can’t you just throw fire into the pit??? Can you not simply use your disgusting fluids to spell out the glorious name of zim before setting it ablaze?????????” 

He’s taken some kind of... diabolical stance, screaming at the sky. Gir’s behind him chanting “ABLAZE ABLAZE ABLAZE!” 

I’m not even going to pretend to be amused. 

“...uh-huh. You want to sign your name on the scene of the crime?” 

“Yes! Why?” 

I sigh with a shake of my head, turning away from him, looking down into the hole. If he doesn’t know that he shouldn’t sign a crime scene, there’s no saving him. “Do you have a flashlight or something?” 

“I have something better! GIR!” 

I don’t turn around to look at him – I just listen to the sound of Gir’s little feet pattering over to his space-car thing, a series of beeps, and then light floods in from behind me. Okay, he turned out the Voot cruiser’s... headlights? 

Okay, that’ll work. 

I peer down into the hole, and I can now see, very clearly, that Zim had put a hole into the roof of the main part of the factory. There are lots of conveyor belts and boxes upon boxes of materials and finished up toilet paper – and whaddya know, a “no-smoking” sign on a door off to the side there. 

I get up, walking over to the Voot cruiser, which opens up to reveal an array of weapons I’d come up with – a few of them look a little off, but hey, it’s probably just alien technology, right? 

I pick up what looks like a revolver with miniature molotovs stuffed in the chamber. It has a faint purple glow coming from the barrel. I can’t help a smile – it's nice to be back to burning. A week of being cooped up’s got me just itching to watch something to up in flames. 

My eyes flick to Zim. 

“Let’s get this show on the road!” 

***   
(Meanwhile, with Dib...)

Dib crouches outside Zim’s house in a bush (a fake bush, which he’d brought himself, which was sitting on a sidewalk,) watching it carefully through binoculars. 

He’s been observing the place since aunt Y/n went missing, and while he hasn’t seen her, he HAS seen Zim going in and out with some very, VERY odd supplies. Metal. Gas. Wiring. Lots of weird, weird stuff. And not the usual weird. Weird weird. He’d know. 

He sighs. 

It’s been a week. 

Nobody believed him when he said that his aunt was in danger – not Ms. Bitters, not Gaz, not his dad... the only support he could get was from online forums! And everyone who replied to his post about Zim’s latest kidnapping had been saying the same thing. 

Either save her himself or go to the police. 

And he couldn’t go to the police yet – he doesn’t want to get aunt Y/n in trouble with them -- so he’d have to proceed with Operation Save Aunt Y/n. And... maybe come up with a better name for the operation just in case anybody asked later. 

He scoots the bush forward a little bit, hugging the edge of the lawn as he slowly, s l o w l y, made his was up the side of the house, where he would get in through a window. 

Thankfully, he had a transmitter to cause a small blackout on him – which he activated right before he jimmied the window open, slipping inside. 

He hadn’t taken a lot of equipment with him – just the essentials. He’s not here for evidence against Zim – he's here for aunt Y/n! Plus, her testimony will definitely make people believe him! 

He slinks through the eerily quiet base, to the entrance of Zim’s underground base – the garbage can’s the easiest entry point. 

He slides down easily, and finds that the underground base must have a separate generator. It’s still got power. 

There’s no noise at all – it seems empty. Not even his weird little robot was in here. 

He decides to call out softly, pulling out a switchblade/spraybottle combo out of his rescue bag as he did, creeping carefully around each corner.   
...

“Y/n?” 

He searches. 

...

“Aunt Y/n?” 

His voice echoes. 

...

“...Aunt Y/n!” 

Silence. 

He huffs, frustrated, unsure of what to do now. He’s not sure if this thing will work down here, but he pulls out his walkie-talkie (the twin of which was with Gaz) and speaks into it anyway. 

“This is Agent Mothman to Base, do you read me, Base?” 

Nothing. 

“...Gaz?” 

Again, nothing. 

He wanted to cry out in frustration as he drug his feet, making his way to the base’s exit, which was an elevator. 

“Gaz, she’s n-” His voice almost breaks as he makes himself speak, puffing out his chest. Now was the time to be FOCUSED. Like a REAL investigator. “She’s not here. We have no choice but to contact additional help from the authorities. I’ll be returning to base – I repeat, Mothman is returning to the lamp. Over.” 

He stuffs the talkie into his bag again, quickly making his way out of the base, wondering just how he was supposed to go about reporting a missing person. 

He knows he has to report her missing first thing in the morning – it's getting too late to get downtown and get help. He’ll probably not get a lot of sleep tonight – instead staying up to make missing posters and refresh his email. Maybe she'd replied to one. Maybe she’s okay. 

For his own sanity, he’s going to just pretend she’s okay. Just until the morning. Just until dawn breaks. 

Aunt Y/n’s strong, right? She’s probably got everything under control. 

***  
(Meanwhile, with you...) 

THE CAR’S ON FIRE. 

THE CAR’S ON FIRE. 

“YOU BUILT IT WRONG, GODDAMN IT!” I shout at him as I squirm away from the burning hot metal that was slowly beginning to glow red above my head – the fire’s on the OUTSIDE of the car, but I’m not sure how long it’s gonna stay that way. The fucking gun I’d tried to use exploded after the first firing, and I’d thankfully thrown it down into the factory before it had, but the bad news was that uh, fireballs had shot up and out of the hole and- well, I'm.... sure ya get the picture. Escape was hasty, sloppy as hell, and the fUCKING CAR IS ON FIRE. 

Oh, and uh, quick side note: WE'RE CRASHING.

“ZIM FOLLOWED YOUR PATHETIC, STUPID INSTRUCTIONS PERFECTLY, YOU SHUT YOUR DUMB DUMMY MOUTH!” 

I wanna throw the chain that connected my handcuffs around his throat from where I sat behind him and strangle him, but I’m not entirely sure how to fly this fuckin thing. I kinda need him for that – at least for now. 

“GIR!” He shouts, flicking open a panel and hurriedly pressing a few buttons in an attempt to chill the voot out – we've got some heavy turbulence. More alien language pops up on a little screen. He picks up Gir by the little ears of his dog costume, a section of glass to his left opening up. “GO PUT THE FIRE OUT!” 

“OKAY!” 

Gir promptly leaps out the opening, completely missing the side of the flying voot cruiser, plummeting through the sky and into the field below, his joyful scream fading quickly as he fell to the Earth below. 

Oh god. Oh my god, he’s dead- 

“YOU THREW HIM OUT THE WINDOW????????” 

“HE JUMPED!” 

I cry out in frustration, crawling up to the front seat, scooting him out of the way, which he.... absolutely does not appreciate. The voot cruiser seems to be getting more and more unstable the farther we fly, and I- GOD, how did I fucking end up here??????????? We’re gonna crash and die and I’m never gonna get to, y’know, flee the country with my arson money. That, and I’m not really ready to head to Hell yet. 

“uNHAND ZIM-” 

“I’LL DRIVE!” I use all of my body weight to push him out of the seat, and for a second, I’m half-sure he’s gonna bite me. I don’t care – I grip the steering wheel. “YOU PUT THE FIRE OUT BEFORE WE BOTH DIE.” 

“YOU GO DO IT!” 

“I’M CUFFED, YOU FUCKING FUCK!” 

I try to mimic his motions with the buttons, and the voot doesn’t seem to get any.... worse. So that’s something! Unless it can't get any worse!

He swallows a snarl before declaring “I’M NOT DOING THIS BECAUSE YOU TOLD ME TO!” and then using his freaky metal spider legs to crawl to the outer parts of the voot cruiser, leaving me alone in the compartment. 

I’m not gonna bore you with the horrifying details of the raw terror that coursed through me when I first saw all these flashing buttons, seemingly nonsensical text, and obvious warning symbols flashing across more than half of what I’ll call the dashboard while being hundreds of feet in the air. I’ll just tell you that I stoically handled the situation by frantically pressing every button and making various high-pitched, panic-filled noises. 

Anyway, I figure things are going fine, right? And then I see these trees getting closer and closer. Then I figure that things aren’t going so fine. 

“ZIM!” I look towards the still open window thingy, and I can’t hear him -- if he’s even responding – the wind’s too loud. I look between the window and the fast-approaching trees and make my decision pretty quickly. 

Fuck this. 

I’d had a death grip on the steering wheel this entire time, pulling it so hard it was practically pressed against my chest – I let go, and the thing practically does a nose-dive. The force of the changing direction sends me flying back, and I hit my head on something – fuck me if I don’t have a concussion yet – but I quickly recover, scrambling for the open window. 

I stick my head out the window, where I spot Zim trying to dislodge one of his metal legs from a panel that was closed on it – is he seriously stuck?! 

I don’t have a lotta time to ponder on it. The rest of my body flies out the window, and I collide with Zim, and the both of us fall away from the car, plummeting from- OH MY GOD, WE’RE UP HIGH. We cling to each other, screaming as we free-fall. 

Thankfully his spider legs absorb most of the impact as we land roughly in a tree, and we’re alive. We’re alive. And in a tree. But alive! 

I laugh – It's more on the nervous and mentally unstable side, but it’s the best laugh I can manage. 

I look to Zim. 

He’s... not laughing. 

Before I can react, I’m pressed against the trunk of the tree, and Zim’s gripping my cheeks harshly, his claws digging into my flesh, his palm pressed against my mouth. 

“You- you did this.” 

I growl against his hand and try to push him away from me and hopefully out of the tree completely. He continues speaking. 

“You crashed my Voot and RUINED my mission! You did this on purpose – and then you went so far as to disrespect me! I! Zim! By pushing me with your freakishly strong grotesque bo-AHHHHHHHHH!” 

I harshly bite his palm, and he releases me – I spit the taste of his blood from my mouth, holding onto a nearby branch for dear life. 

“I’m not the one who build the FUCKING GUN WRONG IN THE FIRST PLACE!” 

His metal spider legs elevate him, and he looks down at me, fury in his eyes. 

“You’re out of chances," He hisses, "Do you think that I cannot take THE CONTENTS OF YOUR MIND AND LEAVE YOUR DEAD HUSK SOMEWHERE DISGUSTING AND VILE?!” He’s too close again, and all I can do is glare as I watch him get closer. “I will kill you here where you stand.” 

The sheer malice in his voice is almost – almost enough to make me shrink away against the tree trunk. If that were true, then... 

I take his bluff, standing my ground. 

“If you could just suck my brain out or whatever, when why didn’t you just do that to begin with? You coulda killed me and had everything you needed.” I get as close as I can without falling out of the tree. “Do it!” I bark. “C’mon, if you can just take my brain out of my ‘dead husk’ do it!” 

He simply glares. 

Called it. 

“HAH! You won't because you CAN'T! See! You need me alive! If you want me to do my job and do it right, you need to give me the goddamn space I need.” 

He doesn’t move. 

I take a deep breath, just now registering the blood that was running down my forehead. “I build the weapons. You provide the supplies; you get to watch.” 

No change. No? No dice? Tough crowd. 

“The next mission or whatever we have will go according to plan if you let me do this my way.” 

… 

“Okay?” I prompt, our eyes still locked – neither one of us wanted to back down, and neither of us would. 

“...Fine,” he spits, moving forward to grab the chain of my cuffs to pull me down with him as his metal spider legs got us out of the tree and onto the ground. His Voot cruiser’s stuck in a tree not too far off – I guess we landed in the city’s park or something. 

It’s still a couple hours before dawn, I think. I’m not sure. He releases me, but doesn’t release the cuffs. 

“We’ll have to head back to the base on foot,” Is all he says as he begins walking, pulling... contacts? And a wig? Seemingly out of nowhere, putting them on quickly. He looks a little silly. “Let’s go.” 

I don’t really have a choice but to follow. 

I follow him out of the park, and so begins our trek to his base.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything. Everything could possibly go wrong. And it did.


	8. White Flag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chill little chapter -- just a bit of bonding. But only a little!

I wish I could report back that I’d successfully managed to escape Zim’s grasp like a smooth criminal, and to be fair, I DID manage to get away from him TWICE, but he uh. He caught me both times. And then he finally had enough of me and threw me over his shoulder. 

I gave up trying to squirm off his shoulder like a disgruntled cat and just, I dunno, let him carry me. I’ve been up all night. I’m tired as fuck. His metal legs are carrying us over rooftops and it’s cool to watch. It could always be worse. Plus listening to him ramble on as he went was kind of funny. 

It’s noon now, and after he cleaned up his wounds, I cleaned up mine, and I learned that Gir WASN’T dead in the woods somewhere (He came toddling back with a taco in his hand and a badger gnawing on his leg. Scared the fuck out of me) I decided to rummage around the main house for those blueprints of mine – the factory thing was definitely NOT my fault, and I want to know EXACTLY what went wrong. 

“Where do you keep blueprints?” I ask as I rummage through the cabinets in his kitchen – they're mainly empty. There’s an occasional box of crackers, some bowls, some other stuff... what the hell does he eat? 

“It’s in my lab, obviously. Do you keep your blueprints for weapons of mass destruction in YOUR kitchen?” 

I shoot him a look, but uh, he’s got a point. I obviously don’t keep them there. They’re usually on my coffee table or something. 

“...Caaaan I see them?” 

He hums in thought before squinting at me, leaning on the table in front of him. I make my way forward, sitting close by – he quickly hides his hands from sight, seeming a bit on-edge. And I don’t get why until I notice that he’s only got one glove on. His palm’s bandaged – the one I bit. It’d been badly burned, too. 

I feel a little twinge of guilt. 

He says nothing as he gets up from the table, disappearing into the floor – man, that’s cool. The elevator thing. I wish I had some of those at my place – when I get back I oughta add some. 

He returns shortly, a few rolled-up blueprints in his arms. He drops them on the table, as well as a pencil. 

“There, now fix them! I would do it myself but you BIT,” he holds up the injured hand, glaring at me. “tHE GLORIOUS HAND OF ZIM!” 

Normally, I’d laugh. But – I dunno, I feel kinda bad for biting him that hard. Even if he deserved it. 

I pick up the pencil, booping him right where a human’s nose would be. “Well, next time just play nice! Nice people don’t get bitten.” 

“I’m not a person,” he mutters, a dark green tone rising in his cheeks. “And I am not nice.” 

I shrug as I unfurl the first blueprint – the one for the gun that had exploded. “Then prepare to get bitten.” And before he can yell or be annoying in any way, shape, or form, I continue. I see EXACTLY what went wrong! With the blueprints, that is. 

“Look here,” I scoot to sit beside him, pointing at the obviously ruined section of blueprint. “The stabilizer, which I guess wasn’t added, Is supposed to go here. There’s also a specific amount of coolant that’s supposed to go in this tube here – how much did you add?” 

“1.5 percent of the tube! Just as it says!” 

I squint at the paper, then at him. 

“...That’s a seven.” 

“What?” 

“That,” I point to the little number I’d scribbled down at like, four in the morning. “Is a seven, not a one. That’s why the dang thing exploded – Not enough coolant and a lack of stabilizer will get your face blown off...” 

He looks mildly offended, snatching the blueprint off the counter with his unbandaged hand. 

“LET ME SEE THAT!” 

He looks at the paper for a moment before he makes a noise of annoyance. 

“...Well, all your numbers look alike! It’s not my fault your hand scribblies suck.” 

“And it’s not MY fault you can’t tell a one from a seven.” I sigh, looking at him to the paper. “Well, how do you count on Irk? What are your numbers like?” 

He looks at me with confusion for a moment before he holds out his uninjured hand for the pencil. I hand it over, watching curiously as he jots down a quickly little number table, in Irken, I guess, at the bottom of the blueprint. Ah, so he can write with both hands! What a drama queen. 'ooooh, you bit the hand of Ziiiiim!' get outta here. 

He passes the pencil back to me, and I draw a respective table over his. 

“There we go!” I smile, and I take a good look at the symbols, which are all very distinct and sharp. I each past him to grab another blueprint, keeping the first open as I practiced... counting in Irken, I guess. Neat. 

And we remain like that for a while, going over my blueprints, which ones he’d built, which ones weren’t ready yet, Which ones weren’t started, all that. Notes are adjusted, and the longer I sit here, the better time I have. 

Don’t get me wrong, he’s still pretty goddamn annoying, egotistical, and loud, but when he’s actually focusing on a print or weapon, explaining how Irken tech could be implemented here or there, or when he’s actually talking TO me instead of AT me... he’s... pretty tolerable, I guess. 

Maybe this whole arrangement won’t be that bad. 

I shake my head – I have to focus. And I do. 

We continue to work at the kitchen table. 

*** 

When the day is just about up, my stomach is rumbling, and I’m straight- up exhausted. I can feel the bags under my eyes getting heavier the longer I stare down at the blue paper under me. 

I yawn, and not long after, Zim does too. Hah! 

“Made ya yawn!” I stand, stretching out my back, groaning as my joints popped. “At least I know you’ve got empathy.” 

“Oh, Zim has no such thing,” he says off-handedly, waving a casual hand to dismiss my statement. “You sleep, I’ll go and gather the parts we’re going to need for these.” He gestures to the blueprints, still messily strewn across the table. “We’ll begin construction tomorrow, after skool.” 

Oh yeah. Tomorrow’s a monday. 

Hmm. What exactly am I supposed to do while he’s at skool? Am I supposed to like... go into his underground base room all day? 

“Okay, uh... well, am I allowed to leave?" Ugh, what a stupid thing to say. I'm obviously gonna leave. "If I head out to uh, y’know, go grab a burger or something, you’re not gonna take that as ‘treason against the mighty Zim!’” I do my best impression of his voice, and it looks like I almost – almost – make him laugh. “Are you?” 

He looks very thoughtful for a moment before he crosses his arms, watching me with an air of- oh great, he’s in Mr. Military Man Mode™. “Tomorrow is your first test of loyalty! While I am at skool, you can go and... do whatever it is you humans do during the day. At the end of the day, I will retrieve you for weapon-building if you have not come back on your own.” 

I squint at him. 

“Why not just... keep me here if you’re so hell-bent on me being your weapon-slave or...whatever?” 

He sighs, pinching the non-existent bridge of his nose. 

“You-” his hands land on his hips a he continues. "The mess in that room," he gestures towards the floor -- the room i've been staying. Er, being held in. "It's disgusting!" 

So...he's letting me go, sort of, because he's done with my messiness? Nice! I knew that being a slob would save me one day! 

He shoos me out of the kitchen, and I just let him. Whatever. As long as I had my freedom back and I wasn’t getting murdered. 

He gestures to the couch, and then to the front door. 

“This is your first test! You may go home or you can sleep on the couch.” 

Oooookay. Man, when did my life get so weird? 

“Well,” I start, walking over to the couch, watching him watching me. “Since we’re in the middle of the city, and it’s dark, and you've locked up all my stuff... I think I’m gonna stay here.” I pull my legs up to take off my shoes, pulling my legs up on the couch. I normally would care a little bit about being, I dunno, rude or whatever, but my manners aren’t exactly important here. 

He smiles, nodding. 

“A wise choice! You may salute me before resting.” 

He takes a stance like... like he's ready to be showered in praise. I raise a brow at him, laying on the couch, my legs dangling over the arm. 

“...I’m not saluting you. You’re lucky I’m not thinkin’ about biting you again.” I laugh, clearly joking, and he looks mildly mortified. 

I soften up a little. Alright, I guess bites are a bit (ha) of a sore (ha!) subject. “I’m just kidding, Zim. I’m not gonna bite you. Right now.” 

He blinks before forcing laughter that was just a mite too loud, hands on his hips. 

“Ah! Yes! Joking! I- I knew that! Of course I did-” another bark of laughter. I laugh quietly too. 

“Uh huh. Sure you did.” I rest my head against my jacket, which I’d folded up into a little pillow thingy. “G’night.” 

“It is night,” he agrees, opening the front door to step out into the night. “Don’t drool on my couch!” 

“Don’t get murdered!” 

He scoffs before heading out into the night, gone in a flash. 

I consider snooping around for a while, but there really isn't much to look into. There's the kitchen cabinets, there's a toilet (which I quickly figured out was not a toilet -- its a way into his lab... somehow?) there's a closet by the door which contains uh... a couple of robots. Really, really creepy robots. 

I shudder as I look at the door across the room. That door stays closed. 

Anyway, aside from all that there's not really a lot of check out. The above-ground house is obviously meant to be a decoy, (but it seems like Zim had at least TRIED to turn it into an actual home) and all the good stuff was below ground.

I curl up in a ball, looking around the living room. It's kinda nice, actually. And the wallpaper around here are little spaceships, which is oddly adorable. Man, how many times have I referred to Zim as adorable? It's weird because he's- he's NOT! He's a scheming, dramatic ball of sass. He just happens to be wrapped up in a cute package. 

Hmm. Wait a second. 

Before I can ponder any more on whether or not I think Zim is cute or likable in any way, Gir makes his way into the room, spots me on the couch, and drops the crayon he'd been nibbling on in favor of rocketing across the floor and RIGHT ON MY GUT, AGH-

"I'M SO SLEEPY!" 

He screams that -- just that, and then promptly passes out on my chest. Uh. Okay. 

I decide to wrap my arms around the little guy and hug him like a stuffed animal, closing my eyes. I promise myself that I won't continue the great cute debate in my head for the rest of the night. 

But for the record, I guess he could be worse. At least he can keep up with me. Y'know, as far as weapon building goes. 

I succumb to sleep quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe Zim's not that bad after all.


End file.
